


The First Day

by violetpeche



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Character Study, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Marriage Proposal, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff, New York City
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-01 16:49:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17247851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetpeche/pseuds/violetpeche
Summary: Johnny's proposal to Kun on New Year's Eve doesn't go exactly as planned, but it all works out in the end.





	The First Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there – this is my first piece of writing I've finished and published in any fandom in over 4 years! 
> 
> I'm rusty, but I won't apologize for it because I'm really stoked to have a fandom to write for again. I wanted to have this published on/before New Year's, but, better late than never. 
> 
> Forewarning: this is very corny and extremely self-indulgent. I wrote this more as a way to get back on the proverbial horse, so hopefully throwing this into the ether will kickstart a new wave of fic writing for me again. Please excuse any glaring grammar and/or spelling errors. This wasn't thoroughly beta'd, but know I'm happy to finally share this with you.
> 
>  **Content warning** \- the tags do mention "implied sexual content," and it's in there. It isn't graphic, hence the lack of explicit rating, but sex is had and nudity is referenced. Just thought I'd mention it if content like that makes you uncomfortable.

Johnny has been waiting for this moment for months.

He had it all mapped out down to the minute. Christmas in Chicago with his parents would be a breeze, slam dunk, a chance to show Kun a white Christmas in America. That first leg of the trip would be the least stressful part of the entire ordeal, but New Year’s in New York with Kun for Kun's birthday had to be _perfect_.

It’s only noon on New Year’s Eve, and Kun’s half a step ahead of Johnny as they cut through a swarm of bodies and a gust of wind on 5th Avenue. Johnny insisted on taking Kun shopping for a pre-birthday treat over breakfast, and he watched Kun reluctantly agree.

Kun carefully tip-toes Johnny around a patch of black ice, and Johnny instinctively tightens his grip where their gloved fingers are laced together. Despite rays of sunlight spearing through the clouds, it’s a hell of a lot colder today in New York than it had been at home in Chicago - it's dry, bitter, and Johnny’s lips are starting to chap as he nervously tries to lick it away. A shiver rolls down his spine as they dodge a couple stepping out of Saks Fifth Avenue, weighed down with bags draped down their arms.

“Babe,” Johnny says.

Kun hums and turns to look over his shoulder, then looks back ahead to keep them moving along the pavement.

“Did you want to go in here?” Kun points at the window. There's a clever display of silk pocket squares and cufflinks glittering under the midday sun.

Johnny swipes his free hand over the front of his coat and feels his heart lurch. He immediately tugs at Kuns arm and moves them under the awning over the display window. Kun smiles, eyes peering in the window, then side-steps around Johnny with an arm out to reach for the door.

“No,” Johnny throws his hand up, and rests a hand on Kun’s shoulder. “No, I,” Johnny licks his lips again, and god, they must be turning blue as another rush of wind whips through the air. New York is so loud, and the sound in Johnny’s ears starts to feel smaller, tighter, and tinny as his heart picks up speed. He watches Kun blink away the cold from his eyes as Johnny tugs off the glove from his right hand. He tries not to wince at the sudden arctic blast numbing the tips of his fingers, but Johnny looks down as he skims a shaky hand along his breast pocket and drops to one knee.

“Johnny,” Kun deadpans, “what are you–”

“Kun, baby,” he interrupts. “You of all people know we both have the patience of a saint, and–” he’s immediately cut off by a taxi cab laying on their horn in the middle of the street. Kun jumps at the noise, and Johnny whips his head over his shoulder to see a pedestrian slam their hands on the hood of the yellow cab and the driver throw open their door.

Johnny clears his throat and begs the banging in his chest to slow the hell down so he can regain composure and tugs at Kun’s hand for his attention again.

“I was planning on doing this later tonight, but I,” Johnny chokes as he watches Kun’s eyes start to well up. “We’ve been through a lot together. When you are around me, being together feels so easy, in spite of everything. Family means a lot to the both of us.”

Johnny watches Kun’s lips quiver at the mention of family. Even after five years of dating each other, Kun becoming successful in his career and sending more money to his parents to properly care for his _nai nai_ , Kun’s parents still hadn’t come around to the fact their only child is gay. Kun’s mother was forward about her son not providing her a grandson, but she was easier for Johnny to face each passing year. Kun still sounded apprehensive every time he tried to assure Johnny she was warming to his charms.

The first time Kun took Johnny to China, Kun’s father was irate. He refused to allow Johnny into his home, but Kun’s _nai nai_ wouldn’t stand for it. _Nai nai’s_ frail, little hands spent an entire day folding dozens of dumplings for their first meal together and invited Johnny to sit between her and Kun at the table. Kun had told him ahead of time _nai nai_ was the only reason Kun was brave enough to introduce Johnny to his family. Kun told him he knew her unconditional love for him would at least afford enough manners to get to know Johnny.

Johnny squashes down his latest memory of _nai nai’s_ hands reaching for his face to kiss his forehead goodbye. She smelled like fresh cut roses, and made Johnny promise to cherish and feed her grandson.

“I want you and I to start one of our own,” Johnny continues. “I love you so much, and I don’t think I can wait a minute longer to ask if you like the thought of us spending the rest of our lives together.”

Wobbling on one knee, Johnny digs out a black velvet box from his coat and pops it open to present a polished, gold band. The lantern light above the entrance of the department store catches on the band and shines against Kun’s shoulder, and Kun throws his gloved hands over his mouth.

“Oh my god,” Kun says, “oh my god.”

“Will you marry me?”

Johnny can feel a patch of snow start to seep through his jeans, biting away at his knee cap. He holds up the ring higher, an honest offering he prays Kun will accept.

Kun gasps, immediately dropping to his knees and surges forward to kiss Johnny. “Yes, yes, yes,” Kun murmurs against Johnny’s lips, and Johnny can’t help but smile into the next kiss, their warm breaths tickling the tip of his nose.

Kun dramatically rips off his gloves onto the ground between them, and grabs at Johnny’s face once more, palms warming the apples of Johnny’s cheeks. Johnny hums in the chaste peck Kun leaves on his lips and feels a pool of tears start to well up in his eyes too.

“Here,” Johnny looks down at Kun’s slender fingers, “let’s get this on you.”

Johnny pulls the ring out of the box, fingertips already numb, and he reaches for Kun’s left hand to slip the band on his finger. Suddenly, Johnny feels a weight drop onto his shoulder, and is jostled forward, hands opening on instinct to save him from face-planting into the pavement. Johnny doesn’t feel it at first, but he hears the ring clink onto the ground and panic sets in.

“Fuck, I’m sorry dude,” a stranger pats Johnny’s shoulder and steps back into the flow of bodies swimming along 5th Avenue.

Johnny scrambles to get to his feet, eyes watching the gold band roll down the sidewalk between a flurry of legs and winter slush. He slips, palms flat on the ground again, and he tries to crawl his way over to the band.

 _Shit,_ he pleads as he watches a boot kick the band further down the street. Johnny darts between a pair of bodies, body hunched over trying to catch up with the ring, heart racing twice as fast as when he was asking Kun to marry him just seconds beforehand. He’s caught sight of the ring once more, rolling along the pavement next to a sneaker, and suddenly vanishes over the lip of the curb. Johnny rushes to the edge and peers over his toes to see a clear opening into a gutter.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Johnny shoots straight up, ripping his beanie off his head. “God _damn_ it!”

He feels Kun rush up next to him, arms slinking around his waist and cheek pressing against his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

“This is not how is it was supposed to happen,” Johnny whines.

Kun squeezes his arms around Johnny’s waist then starts to rub small circles over Johnny’s belly. Ever since Johnny told Kun that his mom would rub his stomach when he was anxious the night before tests in grade school, he noticed Kun started to make a habit of soothing Johnny’s jitters as he worked on his dissertation. Though he’s a head taller than Kun, he always enjoys the weight of him draped over his back. Kun’s warmth was always an assuring comfort in times of stress.

But even Kun’s acts of comfort couldn’t calm him down in this moment. The ring is gone. The ring Johnny had saved up for the past 7 months with the pennies he was pinching from his “internship” ( _indentured servitude_ ) at the art museum, freelance gigs at local art galleries, and part-time consultation hours at a low-end auction house is gone. _Poof_. New York City just swallowed it into the depths of its Underworld, likely drifting into the Hudson or nestling onto a rats nest for eternity.

Johnny doesn’t know if he should cry or scream, so he settles for kicking up a pieces of hardened snow off the edge of the sidewalk. He hears Kun hush into his ear, circles pressing firmly into his abdomen, and now rocking them slowly side to side.

“It’s going to be okay,” Kun says.

“But it’s not, Kun!”

“Did you get insurance for the ring?”

Johnny takes a sharp inhale and starts to feel his tongue go numb, “I–I got it in a little shop in Seoul, I didn’t think to, oh, fuck!”

“We’ll figure something out,” Kun runs his fingers through Johnny’s hair, scratching at his scalp, “something will work out.”

Johnny can feel stones stacking up in his stomach, and he finally lets out a quiet sob. Despite the icy wind cutting through the street, he can feel all of his blood rise to the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his fingers start to shake. He gently places his hand over Kun’s to stop the comforting circles and turns in his embrace to face him. Kun’s thick brows are furrowed. Johnny watches the corners of Kun’s chapped lips curl downward.

“This moment was supposed to be perfect.”

Kun pulls in his lower lip between his teeth, then lets out a quiet sigh.

“Let me correct myself,” Kun says, “the situation, right now, in this moment, for you, is not okay. I know you put a lot of time, effort, and money around this ring.”

Johnny nods and pinches his eyes in hopes to stop the tears. He feels Kun swipe a thumb under his eyes to catch them.

“I want us to spend the rest of our lives together, too,” Kun says. “I love you more than anything.”

The stones jumble around in Johnny’s stomach and he can help but notice his heart skip at the mention of _I love you_.

“I love you, too,” Johnny says.

Kun pushes up on his toes to press a quick kiss on Johnny’s lips.

“You asking to marry me is the greatest thing to happen to the both of us,” Kun says. “That’s perfect enough.” Kun laces his fingers with Johnny and tugs him a little closer, “Come on, let’s get you some coffee. Coffee always cheers you up.”

Johnny trudges through the doors into the department store, bypassing luxe silks and clouds of perfume. Just before they reach the elevators, Johnny is stopped in his tracks when he spots a couple peering over a jewelry case trying on rings. The woman tucks a strand of blond hair behind her ear as her partner picks up her hand to admire the ginormous diamond sparkling under the fluorescent lights. Johnny’s heart pinches in his chest and his knees almost give out, but Kun pats the side of his face and Johnny brings his attention down to his lover’s face.

“This way,” Kun says.

They dart into the elevators and go straight to the 8th floor for the cafe.

Kun grabs a table for the two of them, immediately stacking the dirty plates off to the corner of the table, and asks Johnny to order him a hot tea while he tries to flag someone to clear their table. Kun takes out a small notebook and pencil from his coat pocket and places it onto the table, and Johnny frowns noticing the lack of ring on his left hand.

When Johnny comes back to the table armed with a double espresso and hot tea, Kun’s doodling away into his miniature notepad and his left pointer finger fiddling with the cap from an empty water bottle.

“Here’s your tea.”

“Thank you,” Kun smiles and lifts the mug to his lip to blow at the rising steam.

Johnny spots the blue plastic ring from the lip of the water bottle around his left ring finger. He beams, but can’t shake the looming sadness that there isn’t a gold band glimmering on his hand.

“That’s cute,” Johnny says nodding to the blue band. He takes a sip of his espresso.

“Thanks, I like it, too.” Kun beams and stretched out his arm to admire the plastic band. It’s too loose and dangles between his fingers. “Now everyone can know the most handsome man in the world is going to marry me.”

“You deserve better.”

Kun sets down his mug and clenches his left hand into a fist. “The ring is gone, _baobei_.”

Johnny groans.

“Johnny,” Kun takes his hand, “you’re a hopeless romantic to a fault. I told you earlier that the situation isn’t comforting when considering the circumstances.”

“I just–I should have waited until tonight, it was so stupid,” Johnny’s starting to feel his worlds flutter out between his lips like a rabble of butterflies. “I wanted it to be unforgettable.”

Kun gently rests his his fingertips on the back of Johnny’s hand. “Hey, look at me.”

Johnny looks up from the last drops of espresso lingering in his cup. Kun has a lopsided grin etched onto his face as he lets out a quiet sigh.

“I will never forget the moment you proposed to me. Rings are replaceable, but what you did outside,” and he suddenly brings a fist up to his mouth to cough into it. Kun swallows hard and continues, “After being born into this world and us finding each other, there is no greater gift I’ve ever received than you promising to love me forever. Nothing can top that.”

Kun’s words are like a warm balm soothing the gutless ache that’s been tugging at his chest from the moment the ring slipped through his fingers. Kun squeezes Johnny’s hand and looks into his eyes. The light is catching the water rimming the bottom of Kun’s eyes, and Johnny feels his cheeks start to burn.

“God,” Johnny says.

“You still want to marry me, right?”

Johnny clicks his tongue. “More than anything.”

“Good–no take backs!”

“I just want a do-over.”

Kun shakes his head with a smile and takes a sip of his tea. “I wouldn’t mind another proposal.”

The two finish up their drinks and Kun asks Johnny if he’d like to walk up to The Met, or if they should save it for the day after New Year’s and check out the Museum of Sex instead. Johnny really wants to have a full day at The Met but would never admit it out loud. He suspects Kun knows this already, and the thought warms Johnny into remembering they’re officially engaged, even if his engagement ring is swimming with the fishes. _Damn it_. Instead of outright answering his preference, Johnny insists this trip is all about Kun, and he’ll follow Kun to anywhere he wants to check out, even if it is the Museum of Sex.

They settle on a walk through Central Park instead, holding their gloved hands and winding their way toward Wollman Rink for ice skating. They stop at a vendor a few steps into the park to share a serving of hot nuts. Johnny savors the rich, cinnamon sugary goodness with each piece Kun gently places against his lips.

After spending an hour on the ice, Johnny says he’s hungry again, so they turn in their skate rentals and grab a slice of pizza before heading back to their hotel.

When they shuffle back into their mini suite, peeling off their sweat-lined scarves and peacoats, Kun suggests they take a nap before getting ready for their dinner reservations. Johnny watches Kun slide under the soft down comforter of their bed in one of Johnny’s oversized t-shirts and his briefs.

“You’re getting old,” Johnny peels his shirt off and throws it onto the hassock in front of a leather wingback chair. Kun glares at the shirt for a moment, not uttering a single word, and Johnny snatches it back up to keep the peace and goes to hang it in the armoire.

Johnny gets into bed beside him, stripped down to his boxers, and circles his arms around Kun’s middle. He takes a deep breath in to relax into the downy, white sheets, inhaling the dried sweat and tobacco cologne lingering on Kun’s neck. He can’t resist pressing his lips against the soft skin. He feels a shadow flash before his eyes, shielding the last bits of evening sun filtering through their window, then the sensation of Kun’s hand gently reaching for the back of Johnny’s head to stroke his hair.

“I said we need to rest,” Kun mumbles, fingers moving down to lightly scratch behind Johnny’s ear. Kun shifts his hips and Johnny nestles himself into Kun closer.

“I know,” Johnny drags his lower lip across Kun’s neck to his ear. He holds his mouth close to the shell of Kun’s ear for a few moments, breathing soft and steady, hopeful Kun will turn to give him a proper kiss. “Have I told you I love you?” He tucks his fingers under the hem of Kun’s shirt, then ghosts his palm up Kun’s chest to rest over Kun’s heart. He feels it racing under his touch, pulse electrifying, and Johnny feels a jolt of excitement spike within his own chest.

Kun hums and Johnny feels him nod his head in agreement. Johnny slides his hand downward, fingertips tracing the soft splay of skin down Kun’s flank to finally settle on his hip. Johnny sighs, feeling warm and content under the downy covers with his _fiancé_. His brain nearly flat lines at the realization, and suddenly he’s giddy with delight all over again. He can’t help himself from nipping at Kun’s neck with his teeth once more and planting a wet kiss over the bite.

“Johnny, please,” Kun whines, “I want to stay up past midnight.”

“Sure thing, old man,” Johnny says.

Kun tuts and jabs his elbow against Johnny’s arm. Johnny forfeits his plan to seduce Kun and presses one last kiss onto his cheek, then drifts into a dreamless sleep.

••••

Johnny knew taking a nap would be bad news.

Kun somehow ends up prying himself from Johnny’s hold around his chest when the alarm on his phone goes off, but Johnny remains lifeless on top of the bed sheet, resisting Kun’s attempts to wake him from his slumber. After much effort, Kun pushes Johnny onto his back and starts patting Johnny’s right cheek.

“Johnny,” Kun says. “Our reservations are for 8:30.”

“What time is it?”

“7:30,” Kun swipes the tip of his thumb across Johnny’s left brow,”Please get out of bed and ready for tonight.”

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” Johnny rests his hand over the top of Kun’s, feeling the warmth of his palm seep into his cheek. He turns his face to press a light peck into the center of Kun’s palm.

“You are, but you need to wash up,” moves his hand away from Johnny’s face and brushes a strand of hair away from Johnny’s face.

Johnny lets out a deep groan as he pushes himself up, “What if we say to hell with dinner?”

Going out to dinner _now_ would be a wash anyway. His initial plans for tonight are officially buried 100+ feet below Saks Fifth Avenue right now, and Johnny doesn’t know if he’ll ever get over it. The wound is still too fresh.

He planned to nervously sit through their pre-booked five course meal at an insane multi-Michelin star Italian restaurant Kun had been wanting to try since Johnny suggested New Year’s in New York. After wining and dining his beau, they’d take the elevator to the rooftop bar and step outside onto the patio to look onto the endless grid of lights speckled across the city that never sleeps. And in the quietest of moments on the roof, the snow would start to fall from the sky, and Johnny would drop down to one knee and ask Kun to be his everything, forever.

“I’m not missing out on this meal, John,” Kun bites. Johnny snaps out of his daydream and watches Kun cross his arms. “I was on the phone at 4 in the morning when we were still at home making sure we had this place secured for _my_ birthday dinner. You know how much I was looking forward to this.”

Johnny watches Kun try to hold back a pout and immediately feels a pang of regret for even suggesting they stay in for the evening. They didn’t fly 7,000 miles to spend Kun’s birthday just as they’ve done for the last four years: in bed whispering their resolutions and hopes for the future.

Johnny drags himself out of bed with a smile, leans down to press a quick kiss to Kun’s forehead, and gets ready for the night.

••••

Dinner, naturally, runs smoothly. It’s an intimate affair on the ground floor of a high rise with the walls draped in gaudy brocade fabrics and velveteen wingback chairs. Johnny’s relieved Kun talked him into packing a matching suit instead of just wearing his dress shirt when they step into the dining room of the restaurant. Johnny said packing the suits would be a waste of space in their suitcase because they’d look wrecked by the time they landed in Chicago. Kun quietly tucked Johnny’s suit into his own luggage and made sure housekeeping pressed out the wrinkles that had folded their way into their jackets the first day they arrived in New York.

Johnny spends most of the dinner trying to focus on the way Kun carefully spoons his soup and cuts his steak, so obviously savoring each bite that makes it past his lips.

Kun smiles around the tip of his fork and sets it onto the plate.

“This is the best meat I’ve ever had in my life.”

Johnny wants to make a crude joke, but resists. “Even better than _nai nai’s_?”

Kun brings a finger to his lips, “Shhh, don’t tell her I said that.”

“Oh no! She’d be so disappointed.”

Kun swats Johnny's hand and laughs into his next bite.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

With an hour and a half before midnight, they finish up their meal and head to the elevators to go straight to the cocktail lounge on the top floor of the high rise. As soon as the doors up, they’re greeted with a wall of smooth brass and piano keys from the stage in the center of the lounge. A hostess in a tight black dress holds a tray of champagne and offers flutes for them to take into the thick crowd of partygoers, most decked in silver complimentary paper hats.

They waltz through a piano solo and walk onto the patio to take a look at the vast New York City landscape. Much to Johnny’s surprise, it isn’t as windy up here as he had expected it to be. The patio is lined with heating lamps between the spread of chaise lounges and couches shrouded in gaudy silver fabrics. He follows Kun to the edge of the patio to soak up the view of the city below.

It’s an endless plane smattered in multi-colored lights from the glow of forgotten fluorescent lights in corporate offices, blinding neon greens and blues, luminous billboards, and streams of taxicab tail lights cutting through the gridded streets below. The air is cleaner up here than down in the streets, but the patio’s mostly shrouded with a tinge of propane and endless bottles of alcohol being poured from the bar behind them.

Kun rests his left hand on a railing and takes a long pull of his champagne flute. Johnny lets out a deep sigh and Kun looks up with a frown.

“Hmm?”

“You know,” Johnny says, “I was supposed to propose to you here.”

Kun tuts.

“I was so stupid,” Johnny starts up again, “I should have waited.”

“Please stop calling yourself that,” Kun frowns. “You’re not stupid, but you _are_ a walking cliche.”

“You would have loved it.” Johnny rubs Kun’s shoulder, watching all the lights filter and burst through the reflection of his dark eyes.

Kun hums, never breaking eye contact and throws back the rest of the champagne into his mouth.

“You’re right, I would have loved it, but you really need to let go of this fantasy.”

Johnny squeezes his hand and then smoothes it down Kun’s chest. A waiter passes by and he stops them to place their glasses onto an empty tray.

“Well, if we’re talking fantasies…”

Kun raises an eyebrow.

“I wanted to propose to you an hour before midnight.”

“And?”

“You’d be so stunned,” Johnny pushes a strand of honey blond hair behind Kun’s ear and cups the side of his jaw, “and we’d go back to the hotel,” he takes another step forward and presses his forehead against Kun’s, “and ring in your birthday with a bang…”

Johnny slides his hand down to the small of Kun’s back and starts to lean in for a kiss, but Kun stops him with his hand on his chest and bursts into laughter.

“And miss the fireworks?” Kun takes a step back. “No chance, Mr. Seo.”

“You wouldn’t be able to resist my charms!”

Kun cocks his eyebrow again and crosses his arms.

“I still would have made you wait,” and Johnny watches his eyes go dark. “It’s always better when I make you wait.”

“I can’t believe you,” Johnny scoffs in mock-offense.

Kun laughs again, this time so wide that his eyes crinkle at the corners, and he bounces on his toes to press a quick kiss to the corner of Johnny’s mouth.

“I love you so much,” Johnny says.

“Still want to marry me?”

“It’s all I want.”

Kun wipes the smile from his face and stares into Johnny’s eyes earnestly, “Even if I give you blue balls?”

Johnny bites his lip between his teeth and brings a hand over his eyes to stop himself from howling with laughter.

“Well?” Kun asks.

“Even if you give me blue balls.”

Johnny's no longer thinking about the stupid fucking ring. He’s over trying to merge himself into some parallel universe where he has the ring burning through his breast pocket. His eyes begin to trace each line dimpled across Kun's face under the sprawling city lights. He wishes he could bottle this particular moment forever, harvest every shadow sculpting Kun's irresistible smile, the way each wrinkle is drawn around the corners of his eyes. Johnny considers taking his phone out of his jacket to take a picture, an impulse to photograph every detail that brings him joy, but he takes pause and realizes even a picture couldn't capture the swell in his heart. Not even looking back at that photo of Kun could ever rehash all the joy bubbling under his skin right now, but old habits die hard, and he decides to do it anyway.

As his fingers find his phone in his pocket, Johnny knows won't remember the finer details, like the surprising, bitter gust of icy wind, or the smell of spilled champagne sloshed at their feet, or the chatter from faceless guests chain smoking packs of menthols five feet behind him. He might vaguely remember a strand of hair falling into Kun’s eyes and brushing it away to admire the mole under his eyebrow, but is likely to forget how Kun’s roots are starting to show through the rest of his honey blonde hair.

All he will definitely remember is just Kun and him, under the moonlight, on a rooftop on the other side of the world, so very far from the place they’ve made their home, hopelessly in love.

Johnny snaps a few pictures of Kun alone, then huddles an arm around Kun’s shoulders to take a few selfies together. Johnny flips through them with Kun to make sure all of them didn’t turn out too dark or blurry, and his cheeks burn with delight recounting the photo of Kun’s hand cupping his jaw and pressing a deep kiss onto his mouth.

True to his word, Kun has them stay for fireworks. Kun makes sure they have a prime spot against the endless walls of windows inside the lounge to save the tips of their noses from going numb, even if the patio heating lamps were turned up to their highest setting.

When the countdown to midnight begins, Johnny squares Kun’s shoulders to face him, traces his thumb across the apple of Kun’s cheek, and cups his face between his hands.

“Happy New Year, baby,” he says.

With seconds to spare, Johnny leans down to kiss Kun, kiss him with all the passion he’s pent up in his heart all day, for every minute he’s been by Kun’s side for the past five years, from the moment Kun walked up to him at the jazz club in Yongsan and offered him a drink.

Kun deepens their kiss, tracing the tip of his tongue against Johnny’s bottom lip. Johnny’s eyes are closed, but he’s seeing a new world of colors as the fireworks soar through the sky. The bodies around them roar in the New Year with a chorus of party horns, shrieks of delight, and clinking glasses.

Johnny slips his hands down to Kun’s shoulders and pulls away to catch his breath.

“Happy New Year, _baobei_ ,” Kun says, and gets on his toes for one quick peck at Johnny’s lips. Johnny can feel his lower lip sting, swollen from Kun’s midnight kiss.

The fireworks cease, leaving nothing but a black cloud looming over Times Square in the distance. Stray fireworks sporadically sprout across Hudson Bay, but it’s clear the celebrations are over.

“Happy birthday,” Johnny smiles. “You wanna get out of here?”

Kun nods and Johnny takes his hand to lead them out of the crowd of rowdy partygoers.

By the grace of God, Johnny hails a cab as soon as they step out of the building, and they’re practically in each others laps in the backseat. Johnny wants to keep pressing kisses onto Kun’s face but Kun keeps dodging his advances with the swat of his hand.

“We’re almost there,” Kun giggles. “Behave.”

“I just,” Johnny takes Kun’s gloved hand in his and brings it up to his face. He pulls the knitted fabric down from his wrist to expose the back of Kun’s hand, then whispers, “I want you so bad.”

Johnny grabs Kun’s other wrist as soon as he senses Kun try to cover up his face. Johnny looks up through his lashes, eyes locked with Kun, then plants a feathery kiss on the soft, exposed skin. He watches Kun’s eyes darken under a quiet gasp.

The taxicab makes a hard stop directly in front of the entrance of their hotel, and Johnny can barely hold it together to rip out a few $20 bills from his wallet to hand over to the driver.

They make a mad dash into the lobby, Johnny waves a cheerful “happy New Year” to the front desk clerk, then turns the corner to take the elevators. Johnny feverishly presses the call button, almost suggesting for Kun to hop on his back to take the stairs, but the doors open and Johnny guides Kun in with a hand to the small of his back.

Johnny nearly topples over Kun as soon as they swing the door to the suite open. Kun frantically toes off his dress shoes and tosses his jacket in the direction of the wingback chair while Johnny slaps the “ _Do Not Disturb_ ” sign onto the handle outside their suite door.

Pure mania flows through Johnny’s veins, a spike of warmth surges through his gut the moment Kun latches his lips to the side of his neck, down his chest, a graze of teeth across the soft trail of hair beneath his navel. Johnny takes a seat on the edge of the bed and falls backward with a fistful of hair and a sigh rattling through his ribs. The smell of Kun’s cologne and sweat and spilled champagne twists into the sheets, and amidst the euphoria, the weight of Kun’s love pushing Johnny beyond the brink of bliss, Johnny melts into the sensations.

Under the early morning moonlight on the first day of the year, the first night they made love on the first day of their engagement, winter frost clings onto their windows as snow falls onto New York City, and Johnny wraps his arms around a now sleeping Kun. His heartbeat slows to match Kun’s soft breathes, and he savors the space between seconds, fighting to stay awake. He wants to commit this moment to memory, and starts to recount every smile Kun’s made in their time together. He inches closer into the crook of Kun’s neck, thinks, _yes, this must be the place,_ with Kun, anywhere, everywhere, always.

••••

Johnny wakes to a shower of sun rays filtering through the gauzy curtains of the hotel window and Kun’s warm palm rests on the center of his bare chest. The sheets are wrinkled rather uncomfortably under the middle of his back and the faint smell of their early morning romp lingers in the air. Kun’s slides his bare leg higher up Johnny’s own, bristling the fine hairs on the top of Johnny’s thigh and sending a shiver down his spine. He turns his head to see Kun’s lips form a lazy smile with his eyes still closed.

“Morning,” Kun says and nuzzles closer into Johnny’s side.

“Hi.”

Johnny takes the tip of his index finger and draws a line down the slope of Kun’s nose. He lets out a silent laugh as Kun wrinkles his nose and flutters his eyes open.

Kun moves his hand from Johnny’s chest to cup the underside of his chin and traces Johnny’s bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. Johnny watches Kun stare at his mouth, eyes glazed over in a daze. Johnny’s still waking up himself, but still notes Kun’s got his thinking face on.

“What’s on your mind, angel?”

Kun squints and dips his thumb between Johnny’s slightly parted lips.

“I want a kiss,” he says and drags his thumb away from Johnny’s mouth.

Despite the morning breath, Johnny obliges and twists his shoulder toward Kun to take him in for a kiss. He breathes in sharp through his nose, tugging at Kun’s swollen bottom lip between his own and soothing it with his tongue. He feels Kun gently tug at a tuft of hair, enough for him to hum into the heated kiss, and he feels Kun’s mouth smile into it as his hand slides down the side of Johnny’s neck and onto his shoulder.

Kun pushes himself back up, breaking the kiss, and his eyes light up under the midday sun. Johnny brings his hands up behind his head and stretches his toes.

“Why are you smiling?”

"We're going to get married," Kun says. "And I'm thinking about how they say how you spend your New Year's Day is how the rest of your year is going to be."

“Is that so?”

Kun nods and thrums his fingers over Johnny’s ribs.

"So, it's going to be you kissing away my morning breath?"

“Absolutely,” Kun pinches Johnny's cheek and chuckles, “It’s already my favorite part. You’re a very good morning breath kisser."

“Gee, thanks,” Johnny laughs and places his hand to guide Kun back down for another kiss.

After a moment, Kun shoots up and quickly looks over Johnny's shoulder. Johnny follows his movement, eyes darting to the door of their room, but then feels a small weight fall on center of his chest. His eyes zip back to find a tiny, black velvet box, and Johnny lets out a quiet gasp.

"Kun..." he says, and looks back up at Kun to see him hiding a chuckle behind his hand.

"You beat me to it yesterday," Kun says. "But, for what it’s worth, I really did plan on proposing to you today."

Johnny can feel his eyes well up with tears as Kun takes the little box and opens it up to take out the silver band.

“Remember how I went to see _nai nai_ a month ago? I didn’t really go to check up on her.”

Kun pulls the band free from the small cushion and reaches for Johnny’s left hand to slip it on. It’s snug, but otherwise fits perfectly onto his hand. Johnny lets out a sniffle and brings his hand closer to his face to get a better look at the ring.

“I went to tell her about our Christmas plans and spending my birthday in New York,” Kun brings the tip of his index finger to bite at his nail for a moment. It’s a nervous habit Johnny’s noticed Kun’s struggled to break since they both met. “She asked how you were, how the both of us were, and I was honest. With you in my life, all of the luck in the world is on my side. I love my career and know I’m only going to attract better opportunities. With my work, my success can support my family honorably, but none of it matters without you next to me. She asked me to give this ring to you as a thank you for giving her grandson a face covered in smiles. This is my _yéyé’s_ ring.”

Johnny drops his hand down to the plane of his bare stomach and immediately jolts up in the bed, ignoring the dull ache in his lower back.

“This is your what?!”

It’s a plain band, but it’s etched with dozens of scratches. The underside is worn thinner than the rest of the ring. Ribbons of iridescent greens, reds, and deep blues flicker under the sunlight filtering through the room. There’s decades of tarnish painted across the band. It could use a good polish, but Johnny’s growing fond of the violet spots peppered across the face.

“ _Nai nai_ said the two of us are very special. We are so lucky to have found our lovers for this lifetime. She told me people in love become spouses in the end, even if it can’t happen on paper.”

Kun takes Johnny’s hand between both of his and traces a finger over the band. Johnny’s heart feels heavy thinking about the reality of their marriage only being deemed as “valid” in America, and even then, it’s hardly a feat.

Johnny’s drawn out of his thoughts when Kun picks up his proposal again.

“She thinks of _yéyé_ every day since he died, and she told me he would be proud of me, not only for my success, but for finding my other half who has helped bring out the best in me.”

Kun brings Johnny’s hand up to his lips and gently rests them against the ring. Johnny can feel stones stack up to his throat, this time it wasn’t out of shame, embarrassment, frustration, or hysteria, but of elation, joy, shock, and love. He feels a sting in the corners of his eyes swell through his sinuses as a wave of tears roll down his cheeks.

“Kun,” he says, “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“‘I love you and I want to marry you’ is a good start.”

Johnny blubbers out a few more tears as his eyes pinch through a laugh.

“But we’re already doing that.”

Kun rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to Johnny’s knuckles. “I love you, too.”

“I knew our first day being engaged would be good, but this is beyond anything I could have imagined.”

Kun shuffles down in the sheets to rest his cheek on the center of Johnny’s chest. A soft patch of stubble tickles his skin and he immediately brings a hand up to stroke the hair away from Kun’s eyes. He can feel his heart thump louder when Kun slips their hands together by his hip. He wonders if Kun can hear it, too.

"You're the love of my life," Kun says, "and I want every day, for the rest of our time together, to feel just like today."  


**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading. Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.
> 
> This story initially started off inspired by a viral video that went around last year of a proposal in New York going south when the dude dropped the ring through a grate in Times Square. As soon as I saw that I thought, "wow, that would happen to Johnny's clumsy ass." Since the Johnny + Kun tag is always in need of some loving, I couldn't help but hash out their soft, gentle dynamic into this character study. Over the past month I've been writing this, a rather robust, evergreen backstory for these two in this universe is starting to take root in my brain...
> 
> Talk JohnKun to me: [twitter](https://twitter.com/johntographique) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/violetpeche)


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